Into The Physical Realm
by Wicked R
Summary: A concerned Dean is trying to figure out what's wrong with Castiel while Sam plays matchmaker.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Into The Physical Realm

Disclaimers/note: I don't own anything to do with Supernatural, so much so I don't even watch much more than Castiel's scenes. That's it. So pardon my ignorance and the mistakes I may make due to my unfamiliarity with this universe.

Set: Castiel stays with the brothers as their third wheel just like he said in Hunteri Heroici.

Summary: A concerned Dean in trying to figure out what's wrong with Castiel.

Pairing: Destiel.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort for the sake of it.

"Hey Sammy," Dean hollered over to his brother in good spirits as they walked back to the Impala parked outside the abandoned house the werewolves had been occupying, even though Sam was walking barely a couple of feet to his right. "You know that Bar&Grill we passed midtown that smelled like steaks? Can you remember where it was?"

"I think it was on Central Avenue, Dean. But if not I can search for it on the map. It seemed decent enough to be listed on a satnav."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, "perhaps too decent though to pick up chicks on a whim there?" He wondered, more to himself.

"Is that what you wanted there?" Sam raised his eyebrows minorly judgemental.

"No, but it would be a nice bonus with the steak," Dean grinned, "where's Cas?" The successful hunter realised the angel was missing from his left where the trenchcoated had been just a few seconds ago. He looked around mostly expecting Castiel to have flown off, despite Dean telling him earlier he didn't like the zapping. But the angel was standing a little back, leaning at the wall with one hand and holding his stomach with the other. "Cas damn it, were you hurt in the muddle?" He rushed back, his brother following. "You need to tell us these things!"

"I don't believe my vessel was damaged", Castiel looked up with a confused expression.

"Are you short of juice?" Dean asked worriedly, "you've blasted quite a few of those werevolves in there. Man, do you think you'll ever be up to full charge or did purgatory mess that up for good?"

"I'm feeling a little weak," Castiel admitted, "I don't understand that. Or why my stomach makes me so acutely aware of that organ."

Dean frowned at him, "is that angelcode for hurting?"

"There's just a little pain," Castiel rubbed his hand over his solar plexus, "so it doesn't make sense why it would feel like it was.. juddering?" The angel fished for the correct word. He had only felt the same way once before, when he woke up in the hospital after he became human for a short while.

Dean supported his friend by a shoulder, "let's see under those coats. Maybe you didn't notice getting hurt, it wouldn't be the first time. You haven't had an injury since you came back from purgatory, have you? So we don't know how you'd heal. Maybe you cracked a rib or something with those two werewolves on top of you," the hunter tugged on the smaller guy's suit jacket.

"No." Castiel pushed him away forcefully, a little short of the total control of how to handle humans, making Dean fall back on his butt. He managed however to achieve the purpose of the shove, that being having Dean out the way while Castiel threw up the small amount of stomach juices that was in his otherwise empty stomach.

"Looks like we can forget about restaurants," Dean commented looking at Sam while getting to his feet and carefully approaching Castiel again from the side and putting a hand on his back, "are you done?"

The angel nodded, straightening up, more confused that anything else. "I don't understand how that happened. I'm sorry Dean."

"You want to go back to the motel and lie down a bit?" Sam came to corner Castiel from the other side in case he needed any more support.

"I'll do that," Castiel nodded, "but there's no need to change your dining plans," the angel disappeared from in between the brothers. The prospect of Dean eyeing up the ladies in that establishment was making him feel nauseous, but it couldn't have been all how he was feeling due to that, could it?

"Damn it Cas!" Dean shouted angrily, almost losing his footing for a moment as the body he was supporting wasn't there anymore, "I told you no more zapping!"

"You need to talk to him Dean," Sam stated. "Cas had been smiting a lot of werewolves in there, but perhaps he has even less juice than he thinks or lets on. He was so quickly drained when we went for Kevin and the warding off sigils affected him easily as well."

"You think I don't know that!" Dean snapped, "he has been saying things, worrying things as well. But any time I try to make him talk, not a small feat I stress, you waltz in at the wrong time and we get on with hunting business instead."

"You want some alone time with Cas?" Sam grinned at his brother. "Seriously though, Dean," Sam rubbed the spot on his arm the older Winchester punched him reacting to the tease, "if you think you can find out more about what's wrong with Cas, I could stay longer at that bar while you, you know.."

"No," Dean ended the conversation forcefully before it could go any further, "or at least not tonight. It can wait."

Tbc


	2. Round Two

Chapter 2: Round Two

The following week of the perpetual demon annihilation campaign they were on led the hunters to Nebraska, following reports of unusual fog during the warm weather and mass breaking down of washing machines and dish washers in a whole suburb without any explanation. Their suspicions were proven founded when on arrival the local news station reported that dozens of office workers had to be fired in a building downtown as they openly engaged in inappropriate behaviour at work on the same day such as crudely disregarding hygene or the rules of public modesty while trying to seduce their co-workers.

When the Impala neared the office building that evening, Cas leaned forward in the back of the car, his face focussed as he was feeling the beings out just at the other side of the wall they were driving past, "their numbers are high, but they are simple low level demons, without much direction, just doing the devil's work, their main aim being to make people sin. They are rather amateur with their meatsuits, thus the hygene problems and they aren't very advanced with the seduction techniques either. Because they've ran into difficulties with bosses, they have them trapped in the elevator.."

"Damn it Cas, not all by yourself, didn't we agree!" Dean hit the Impala's wheel in frustration as he turned into the mostly empty car park. Of course Castiel could surely handle some low level demons by himself, but he always worried when the angel flew off by himself like there.

The smell was recognisable as soon as Dean parked his car and opened the doors and going by the shouting and screaming, Cas was well on his way to take the demons out. As the brothers ran round a concrete wall the angel became visible again, standing his ground surrounded by several demons. Continuing to near the site of the fight, they could see how the warrior angel delivered punches and kicks in various directions at the same time, incapacitating half of the opposition at least whilst he ducked, flew and rotated his upper body to avoid their knives, but not bothering to ward off all hits as it wasn't likely to hurt him anyway.

Dean almost skidded to a halt in marvel, Castiel appeared to be in complete control leaping and delivering punishment as if it would've been some sort of art form. Thus it was Sam who plunged his knife into the back of a demon standing a little to the side, attracting the group's attention with the flickering light display given by the dying demon in the dimly lit car park. Driven by their ad hoc positions, Sam advanced on the next and the next demon closest to him while Dean ended up in the position of covering him, killing a couple of demons himself in the process.

Now having taken in the fact that they were attacked from behind as well, two demons started to eye the older hunter up, stalking closer, but not too close. The female meatsuits they were wearing were barely dressed and Dean had to admit they chose the disguise well. He stepped back, a little bit surprised by the unusual tactic when the demons' remaining clothes were dropped to the floor, revealing full, curvy boobs and long, shapely, smooth legs. Dean grinned and whistled, they were as close to perfect as could be. He let them advance just close enough so that he could knock one of them unconscious, using the time to take in the whole situation.

Sam was engaged with two similarly acting meatsuits, Cas was still surrounded by clothed ones. But what worried the older hunter was that his angel didn't seem to be concentrating on his own assailants, instead he stared at Dean cause of the sighing and licking his lips he had done earlier as the human body reacted to the sight of the female bodies automatically, regardless of knowing they would be his death if he gave in to the temptation of savouring the view even if for one second.

Dean hit out abruptly, taking one of the women vessels down with a single blow, causing his remaining wanabee-seducer to attack viciously as retribution, resulting in a brief set of blows before they both stepped back for a second to kick off again. Once more, he let his opponent close, this time so he could wrestle it to the ground and twist the neck till it snapped. Dean looked up to see who he could help. The low level demons being relatively easy to handle given the hunters' experience, it seemed that Sam had taken care of his and Cas likewise. Yet regardless of the lack of surviving demons Dean ran forward quicker than before when they arrived to catch and support the angel's shoulders when he bent to hold onto a traffic cone, his other hand clutching his midsection as he emptied his stomach. "Cas, what's happening? What's wrong?" Dean asked unnerved. He now wished he had had that conversation with Castiel about the aftereffects of purgatory or whatever that was ailing his friend and cursed himself for thinking it too chickflicky to openly show so much concern earlier and talk things through.

"I..don't..know," Castiel managed in between spitting the bad taste out of his mouth. His insides had been clenching like usual when Dean was in any danger, it was nothing out of the ordinary so that could not cause this reaction. He felt nausea when Dean's manhood visibly bulged up at the spectacle the demons provided, but not even humans threw up at the recognition of such an inconsequential observation. Castiel shook his head, not understanding, "I don't know," he repeated, straightening up.

Dean looked at a cautiously approaching Sam at a loss. He felt like punching Cas into the wall for disregarding their agreement to fight together and endangering himself, but the angel's pale, clammy face and trembling lips have stopped him from using any force. "Why didn't you tell us you weren't feeling well?" He grumbled instead.

"I was fine, Dean. I haven't experienced any weakness till well into the fight," the angel defended himself, truthfully enough.

"You want to say you didn't feel weak or unwell since last week you threw up till this very moment?" Dean pressed. He was going to get the truth out of Cas at this instant.

"That's not exactly accurate," Cas flinched bashfully, but Dean mistook the puckered brow as a sign of discomfort. The hunter's eyes travelled to Castiel's palm, still stiffly holding his stomach.

"Damn, Cas! New rule. I want you to tell me every time you feel there's something wrong with you, do you understand!"

Cas thought about all the instances where the vessel showed symptoms he did not understand and that were slightly uncomfortable ever since he took Jimmy over years ago, occurrences he could easily mojo away without explanations to their origins needed, "I believe that would be utmost unnecessary and I wouldn't want to disturb you that often."

Dean's pupils opened wide, "what do you mean that often! How often! Give me some examples, Cas," he pressed.

"Why don't you interrogate him in the car so he can sit down," Sam eyed the angel's pale face, "I'm going to cover these bodies up at least, then somebody needs to get rid of the cctv footages and let everybody trapped out the elevator."

Dean merely nodded at his brother, concentrating on his angel as he led him back out towards the Impala, "so, what do you usually feel like when these episodes happen? Sore stomach? What else?" He asked hoping Castiel's ailments were humanlike enough for him to be able to help.

"Could be different things at different times. A bit disorienting sometimes or there's a pressure in my head. But mostly it's this unsettled feeling in my abdomen that I would say is really strange for an angel."

"You came back from purgatory changed Cas," Dean supplemented, thankful that he was getting something out the angel who thought himself self-sufficient and didn't like to rely on others.

"Maybe, but I felt all this in there already Dean, even before you found me by the water."

"You ever think of speaking up!" The hunter grumbled rhetorically, knowing his friend was only doing what he would've done himself, "well, we do know for a fact that you're weaker since you came back for one and now everything's more of a toll. Did you get a stomach wound at any point in there?" Dean reached a hand out towards Castiel's tie, his unconscious in half mind to look for signs.

"I..I did," Castiel admitted, wincing. He didn't know what Dean would make of him keeping secrets again.

"Did it heal ok?" The human asked evenly, trying to keep apprehension and anger out his voice so he didn't spook Castiel into his shell.

"Yes."

"Let me check," Dean said resolutely without giving him the chance and taking no for an answer, but he wavered as they stood by his car. "Are you still feeling sick?" He glanced at the black seats and the freshly valeted flooring in the Chevy.

"I'm perfectly fine now Dean, there's no need for concern," Castiel assured him.

"Then sit down and let me see," Dean pushed the passenger seat into recliner and led a surprised angel to sit in the front. With a no nonsense attitude, he pushed Castiel to lie down and his outer garments aside to set about unbuttoning his dress shirt as the angel watched him taken aback mesmerised. "The light is not very good here," Dean complained, sliding his fingers up towards Castiel's ribcage and down to his bellybutton briefly, barely touching the skin, "I can't see anything wrong."

"I have told you I have healed," Castiel reiterated in wonder at the hunter's stubbornness.

"You have learned to lie quite well," Dean defended himself. "Maybe there still is some internal damage?"

"I don't believe so," Castiel assured him, but had to admit to himself that the human's concern and touch was rather desirable, setting off a pleasant feeling of being looked after in him. The heat that spread in his stomach felt pleasant this time, however inexplicable. Curiously, all the uncomfortable churning stopped at the same time, "I experienced definite exponential increase in power of my grace since coming back to earth, so I'm quite sure these small ailment manifestations will be temporary."

Dean regarded him with reservation, but nodded, hoping his friend was right, "if it happens again we're taking you somewhere to get it checked out."

"Where do you take an angel to get checked out?" Sam criticized his idea coming back to the car after dealing with his tasks, "I can't say I've heard of angel doctors," he settled in the back seeing as Castiel was occupying the front seat.

"We'll figure out something, all right!" Dean snapped. Sam just rolled his eyes. That usually meant, he'll have to figure out something. He pulled his phone out his pocket and started his research right away. May as well.

Tbc


	3. Prescription

Chapter 3: Prescription

Three arachnes and a buruburu later Dean decided it was time they spent some of their money. It wasn't very often they actually got paid for hunting and beheading, so it was a nice change when the human they've freed from the spider web turned out to be the CEO of some conglomerate. Guns, ammunition, a new carburettor and exterior lens for the Impala, a bunch of books ordered through antique shops, clothes for Castiel, Dean insisted. While everyone felt some sort of attachment to the trenchcoat, the Winchesters pressed for some change in the angel's attire. Castiel reminded them he could just mojo something different on, but in the end Dean wanted to choose the outfit. Jeans and a blue shirt, that went with his eyes. The remaining funds went into reserve with the promise of less shittier motel rooms and upmarket diners.

"You were right Cas," Dean slapped him on the back, "we have a lot better and quicker success rate hunting with a third wheel." His mind wasn't in the conversation though. There were two women on the premises he kept making eye contact with and was trying to choose between, a waitress and a customer. He would sleep with one of them tonight.

"I must admit, Cas, it's a lot easier to convince Dean of the erroneousness of his ways when you're here," Sam concurred as well.

"I need to fly out, now." Cas said tight lipped and frowning, disregarding the conversation topic.

"You can't do that in the middle of a busy restaurant!" Dean hissed quietly and got hold of one of the angel's arms to keep him back. He had to swallow himself though in mild panic when he saw Castiel's hand clamping to his stomach. What would follow wasn't a thing to do in a busy upmarket restaurant either.

"Take him outside to the fresh air," Sam suggested, "I'll take care of the bill."

Dean manhandled Castiel into the right direction, cursing to himself. In spite of the angel not having any sick spells over the last couple of weeks, he should've been wiser than making Castiel taste like a dozen varieties of human food on the same day. Suddenly he felt the familiar unsteadiness that was associated with angeltravel as soon as they were outside the door. Castiel landed them in their hotel room, already hunched over and having started vomiting in mid flight. Dean didn't want to imagine where his stomach contents could've went. "I'm so sorry Cas, this is my fault. I just so wanted a stress free day with daisies and fanfare where we get what we deserve for all our troubles for a change! Are you ok?" He slid a hand on the top of Castiel's on his stomach. "You could've landed in the bathroom you know," Dean looked at the mess before them.

"My apologies," Castiel disappeared at the other side of the bathroom door in a flash where from Dean could still hear the sounds of him being sick. The hunter quickly opened the windows to help with the smell, then rounded into the toilet to help Castiel. "Does it hurt?" He asked sympathetically when there seemed to be a lull in between bouts of sickness.

"A bit," Castiel admitted, leaning the side of his forehead against the cold sink.

"If you're finished I'm going to get you to lie down, then I'll call Sam to get you some medication and then we're going to take you to a doctor in the morning." Dean tugged at Castiel's trenchcoat gently, "get this off you, it's covered in sick. And don't even think about mojoing it clean, I'll wash it all right? No more zapping either," he helped his friend up to his feet and led him towards the bed, "if you need water or anything, I'll get it, capisce?"

"Human doctor?" Castiel marvelled, letting Dean put his feet up the bed and take his shoes off.

"Yeah, well, sort of. We talked about this eventuality with Sam and it seems that among Bobby's hunters and seekers network there was a surgeon who was well aware of the supernatural and didn't mind treating the occasional friendly dragon or gnome. He also treats hunters without health insurance. You just rest till then."

"I'm sorry I've ruined your evening Dean," Castiel lay his head on the pillow as he was told. He hardly thought some random gnomespecialist will be of any use to him, but did not want to argue with his humans. The less trouble he caused them, the better. He already had so much to make amends for that it instantly made his thoughts freeze with the weight of it, his heart stop and his stomach clench. All these physical sensations his vessel conveyed to him were overwhelming. Castiel curled up on the bed with his arms folded over his midsection. Perhaps he shouldn't spend so much confined to his body, but he'd promised the Winchesters he'd stay put.

"I texted Sam to get some antacid tablets," Dean announced, returning to the side of the bed, "are you in pain?" He noted the angel's position.

"I don't know Dean."

"What do you mean you don't know? You're either in pain or you're not."

"It's a lot less unpleasant than getting stabbed."

"Well, I should think so!" Dean rolled his eyes. "Come on Cas, describe the feeling."

"Sometimes it's like a huge stone had been placed on my abdomen, or inside it, pressing and pulling. It comes on quite suddenly and then it pushes whatever is in there out so I'm sick."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "that's a pretty weird description Cas," he couldn't help saying, although he knew the angel wasn't very good at understanding and acting on human experiences, "would a little massage help you think?" He extended his hand to pull Catiel's shirt up a bit and gently place his hand to where he saw his friend touching himself before. "Is this ok Cas? Tell me if it's hurting you."

"You can't hurt me with touch," Castiel stated indignantly, but inwardly he observed closely what the human's actions elicited in his physical body. "Oh I see it's just like rubbing your temples when you have a headache. It confuses your nerve endings, but doesn't help the problem itself."

"I was hoping it would do a bit more than that, but yeah, maybe," Dean gave him an apologetic little encouraging smile.

"No, it's very pleasant," Castiel admitted as Dean's fingers gently circled his upper belly, applying medium to small pressure as they went smoothly round his bellybutton. "But you shouldn't trouble yourself, I'm feeling better now."

"Cas, there's no reason why I shouldn't take care of you," Dean assured, his hand never stopping, "I just wish I knew more often when something's wrong." The hunter said in an accusatory tone that made Castiel silent. He had always tried to please the human, but it wasn't always easy. And with all the mistakes he had made, it was a miracle the Winchester was so gentle with him. He hardly deserved it, and neither did he deserve getting out of purgatory. Being haunted by the sight of dozens of angelwings burnt into the ground was not enough punishment, nor was the memory of burning churches, congregations, blood spattered walls in humble homes, office buildings and community halls. Those people, angels even had the right for making their own mistakes, yet he cut them off from the possibility of their redemption. The look in the eyes of that child who's minster father he had killed..made him sick of himself. How did he deserve Dean's tending fingers? It was revolting how he took the comfort when he should be suffering for eternity for his deeds? Disgusted with himself, he raised a hand to his mouth, eyeing the direction of the bathroom.

"You gonna be sick?" Dean drew back, allowing for movement.

"Uhm no," Castiel shook his head, then regretted it. The human body required him not to shift if he was going to retain what might have been left in his stomach. He didn't want to trouble Dean more, adding another instance to the long list where he had inconvenienced the hunter and thus making himself feel even more guilty. But his corporeal form decided having its own mind and he had to change his stance on the subject as well. "Yes."

Dean heard the sound coming from the bathroom before he had time to realise Cas already flew off without his help. He followed the angel nevertheless, needing to know what was wrong with him at every stage, hoping there was something he could do to help, even if it was only for comfort. The sight of his ailing friend made his stomach clench too, there was something seriously wrong with a powerful being consisting of a beam of light throwing up uncontrollably. Castiel was shaking even in between the bouts of having to lean over the porcelain and Dean doubted those weakened arms could hold him from faceplanting into the bowl.

The angel was thankful indeed for the strong hands around his torso, holding him steady. He didn't understand how his physical body could have so much power over him, he was sweating, shivering, dizzy and there was a burning sensation in his stomach to the extent of distinct pain that was slowly extending to the whole of his abdomen. The squeezing sensation didn't stop either yet, causing him to dry heave as there was nothing there to expel. He was so weak, but his dizziness faded somewhat and without the buzzing in his ears he could finally hear Dean's determined attempts to calm him down, coach him how to breathe. That, and the small handtowel dipped in cold water placed on the back of his neck made Castiel focus enough to feel like he could balance himself holding onto the rim of the toilet and look up to his human friend. "I'm sorry Dean."

"What the hell man!" The taller figure grumbled, looking the angel over. With his pasty face and trembling hands, the angel didn't look like his knees would be able to hold him standing, "what the hell is happening?"

"I would tell you if I knew," Castiel rubbed a hand across his face, surprised there was a sheet of sweat to clear. "I'm always fine and then all of a sudden I'm not." He looked at a loss.

"It's all right Cas, we'll figure it out," Dean rubbed a hand on Castiel's back encouragingly before standing to wet another towel. Taking into account that the angel's hands were still shaking and that he looked somewhat disoriented by the whole experience, Dean simply raised the small towel to the angel's face and cleaned the sweat off to freshen the other man up a bit. "You wanna go back to bed or do you need to stay here a little?"

"I really don't know.." Cas was still clueless.

"Okay, well then, just keep taking deep breaths and have some water," Dean filled him a glass with cold liquid, then settled back down next to his buddy on the tiled floor.

"That's very pleasant," Cas appreciated the water. It was neutralising the burning in his stomach and was settling it down. "Thank you." Not wanting to spend more time on the cold, hard tiles inconveniencing Dean even more, he used the wall behind him to lean on while getting to his feet.

Dean jumped to help him immediately, holding onto his arm, providing support, "Sam, in here, give us a hand, will ye!" He hollered when he heard the door of their hotel room opening.

The younger Winchester appeared in the doorframe, his swift eyes effectively assessing the situation. On wobbly legs, Castiel didn't look like he could do much more than lean on Dean. Sam spared a worried glance for his brother. Castiel was worse and they had to talk about it, but not now. The action man he was, he helped getting the angel to bed instead. "I'm going to open the pills and look at the dosage," he offered further assistance without being asked.

"Thank you," Castiel whispered once more. He carried on concentrating on taking deep breaths, but his eyes closed.

"You can sleep after you take the meds," Dean rubbed the angel's arm to keep him focussed. "They'll help, I promise. Enough hangover experience here to know that," the older Winchester gave a half smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"It's maximum dosage, but I don't know if it's enough for you," Sam winced, handing Castiel a handful of different coloured tablets and the glass of water, "here." Castiel said nothing, but did as he was expected and leant back drained.

"You might be able to sleep it off," Dean encouraged, "we haven't tried that before. Just rest Cas. I'll watch over you."

Castiel half opened a lazy eye, peeking at the human incredulously. The fact that Dean had used his line and meant it, must've been amusing at some level, but the angel was too tired to consider it any further.

Tbc


	4. Professional Approach

Chapter 4: Professional

"Is this really necessary?" Castiel walked down the nondescript cream coloured corridor of the private hospital, in between the Winchester brothers. "I am fine. I have successfully smitten those two Rakshasas you haven't even noticed by the petrol station and without ill effect." He came to a halt with the others as they all stopped in front of a door that said Dr. Bradawl. "The rest in the hotel and in the car was sufficient to counter all the effects of vomiting."

"We're here now." Dean established in a no nonsense voice and pushed Castiel ahead of him through the doors. Seeing his reluctance, he kept a hand on his friend's shoulder as they slowly advanced towards the grey haired man in blue scrubs.

"The famous Winchesters," the doctor extended his hand for a shake, guessing right which ones of the men were the brothers, "making deals with the great reaper, I must admit, sounds very appealing for a physician."

"He can be an ok guy," Dean shrugged, "it's Mr. Pestilence you want to avoid."

"I've never met an angel either," the surgeon eyed the third newcomer, "I'm Dr. Bradawl," he nodded towards Castiel a little less confident than what you'd expect from a doctor of medicine, "my primary speciality is cardiothoracic surgery, but I will do all I can to help you."

"I appreciate that doctor," Castiel nodded albeit reluctantly, falling into his role of traditional servant of the lord, defaultly polite in his interactions with humans.

"So angels don't get sick, is that right?" The doctor started his questioning.

"They can get tired and exhausted when hurt, but that's it. It's him being physically sick that concerns us," Dean supplied.

"I've already heard your version on the phone, it's Castiel I'd like to hear it from if you don't mind," the physician gave his customary spiel concerning the recording of the patient's medical history, "please take your coat off and lie down here," he patted the examination bed for Castiel.

"Should we wait outside then?" Sam backtracked a few steps, but Dean helped a reluctant Castiel out his coat instead.

"I would feel more comfortable if Dean was present," Castiel stated, "my people skills are not as required," he explained.

"I'll stay," the older Winchester assured everyone as Sam closed the door behind himself.

"Are you in pain just now?" Dr. Bradawl concentrated on his patient.

"A minimal amount," Castiel acknowledged. Dean swore under his breath. Sure he should've been told and known about that!

"Please lie down on your back and relax. Where exactly does it hurt?" The examination was starting.

The angel placed a hand on his left upper quadrant to indicate, "but it's more like my whole stomach," he shook his head, "it doesn't make any sense why anything would ail me. I will my grace to remedy it, but nothing happens while injuries I can heal. Mine or others'."

"Maybe an outside look is what you need," the doctor gave him a routine looking reassuring nod and smile, "I don't think I can work with the entity of grace, but if your illness has got any basis in your human vessel, we can find the cause. Do you mind if we take some blood samples to boot with?" He opened a drawer to get out a syringe.

"That would be acceptable," Castiel glanced at Dean. His human seemed to trust the surgeon and expected Castiel to cooperate.

"Could you roll up your slee.." Dr. Bradawl started, but paused as his previously empty syringe was now filled with blood. "Oh well, never mind," he shook his head a little startled. But I would like you to raise your shirt so I can conduct an ultrasound examination?"

With Castiel slow in his confusion over the matters of human medical examinations, it was Dean who lifted the shirt high enough, brushing the angel's hesitant hands out the way. "If you could step to the other side of the examination table," the clinician instructed Dean, "let's adjust the headrest a few inches higher…could you please flex your knees a little bit? Does this hurt?" He pressed four fingers of the examining hand lightly on the area Castiel previously indicated hurt the most, just enough to indent the surface.

"A bit," Castiel was surprised to find himself wincing. However, none of the other areas the doctor probed proved to be tender.

"I'll be gentle with the ultrasound," the doctor assured nevertheless, "let's see if we can come up with anything," he pulled the equipment on rolling wheels closer, "I'm putting some clear gel onto your stomach to improve contact between the transducer hand piece and your skin…" He then proceeded to move the hand piece around the angel's abdomen to get the best picture and watched the screen intently for about a minute before arriving to a conclusion, "well. Ok. There's some inflammation of the stomach lining and duodenum visible, especially around the pylorus…"

"Isn't this just a little bit weird?" Dean blurted out.

The older man sighed, "you tell me. I know nothing about angel anatomy," he repeated, "but I can treat a simple gastroenteritis."

"Is that what it is?" Dean found it hard to believe a stomach upset would affect his angel that much.

"I'm sure it's not as simple as that and the real challenge will be in finding the cause, especially if it's an ongoing thing, we will need to deal with that. The lab will check for all kinds of toxins and antibodies and I will keep some blood back to test it myself for anything that could resemble demonic. In the meantime, we can treat the symptoms. Can he keep down fluids?" The doctor was more comfortable asking Dean, not to mention Castiel was acting rather aloof.

"I don't need fluids for survival, or any other human necessity," Castiel declared gruffly.

"Mr. Castiel," the doctor stood his ground, facing him squarely, "the boys had asked me for help and that's what I'm trying to provide. And right now I've just done the fingernail test and it confirms your body, meatsu..vessel or whatever you call it is dehydrated. I'm going to put you on an iv with 90mgs of Flunixine meglamine in a Ringer solution," he turned to his medicine cabinet.

"Alright," the angel finally relented, more to Dean's warning expression than anything else, but gave the hunter a frustrated sigh to signify his irritation. The unconventional doctor stepped forward with a vial of liquid and a needle.

Tbc


	5. Silver Bullet

Chapter 5: Silver

Dean leaned back on the chair he had pulled close to Castiel's examination bed. He had hoped the angel wasn't feeling so bad that he had needed sleep, the sickbowl was bad enough, but since Cas had closed his eyes and was apparently resting, the hunter decided not to disturb him.

"Dean?" The doctor's voice alerted him to the medical practitioner's presence, calling him expectantly from the half open doorway. So he stepped out apprehensively to receive verdict.

Dr. Bradawl stood back, looking a little hesitant, "as you know, there was a definite chance from the beginning that we cannot come up with anything. Look, as far as human based medicine can detect, there's nothing wrong with Castiel that could cause the problems he has. But I have a theory. No outside force could trigger lasting damage inside him, so that must mean the cause is coming from inside and within his control."

"What are you saying? That he is doing this to himself?" Dean recoiled, "or faking?"

"Not exactly. But if he can heal himself, than he can hurt himself too. I'm not saying this is intentional, not at all, but it might be psychosomatic."

"Castiel has been through a lot, but he's not crazy," the hunter defended his friend.

The other man shook his head, "the connection between the mind and the body, the soma, is intricate, controversial and in many ways still unexplained. We eliminated every other possible cause we know of to exist, so it is the remaining option is that is the truth, however unimaginable it may seem, just like Sherlock Holmes says. Eh, never mind… However, a psychosomatic illness or symptom is indeed real...very real, but is brought on by thought. The stomach is deemed susceptible to psychosomatic stimuli, as well as mental or emotional stress and that can result in functional impairment. Stomach pains are real, the pain is real, as are other reactions occurring in the body as a result of stressful events."

"So what are you suggesting we do?"

The doctor winced, "I somehow don't think he'd either agree to a psychological consult or that we can find a specialist who deals with angel problems. You will need to mainly deal with it yourself. Talk to him trying to figure this thing out, be a good friend. I can lend you books with relaxation techniques. Other than that, I can provide further symptomatic relief. I'll fill out a prescription for anticolinergics, antiemetics and maybe some pain medication, then I would be happy to let you go. Sorry I can't be of more help," the surgeon pursed his lips apologetically.

"No, that's okay, thank you doctor, I appreciate it," Dean shook hands.

"If there's anything I can help you boys with, let me know," the older man offered, "feel free to call me, I know how many things can go wrong on a hunt."

"Thank you very much," Dean nodded at him gratefully on his way back to Cas' room.

"I'm sorry for causing so much inconvenience," the angel greeted him with his own apology at the other side of the door, lowering his eyes in what could only be interpreted as embarrassment.

"You heard what was said, right?" Dean sat back down, for a discussion this time.

"Dean, I am at a loss as to how could my vessel make such an impact," Castiel admitted, looking rather small without his coats and under the hospital covers, "even if the doctor was correct and I'm subconsciously causing it to deteriorate, another part of me should spontaneously heal the damage anyway."

"Could it be Jimmy, not you?" The hunter was fishing for possibilities.

"Jimmy." Castiel looked up at him as if he'd been kicked in the gut. He swallowed convulsively, "Dean. Jimmy has..Jimmy had opted to go to heaven rather than stay with me a long time ago."

"He opted.." Dean frowned, face falling. The hunter was pretty sure he did not want the conversation to go that way now.

"He hated all the battles and confrontations and violence," Castiel said sourly, "so since his acceptance of me wasn't entirely his choice as it should've been, the least I could do for him is let him go. For all intents and purposes, he is dead to this world." The angel was taking big breaths by this time, eyes looking for something in the room.

"Damn it Cas," Dean didn't find it hard to guess it was the sick bowl his friend needed. But as Castiel was throwing up copious amounts of stomach juices again, two and two had started to form an answer in the hunter's head. His previous question about Jimmy had caused visible emotional stress in the angel, one of the possible causes the doctor had mentioned and now Cas was sick again. Dean kept the smaller man steady with one hand, gently rubbing his stomach with the other, "keep taking deep breaths…come on angel, you must know it helps muting thoughts to concentrate on breathing… specially that you really need to focus to do it cause it's not natural for you…concentrate on breathing…it helps doesn't it? Feel better? Do it once more...that's it, it's working." He was a bit impatient till he could ask, "the other times when you ended up being sick, what were you thinking of just before?"

Castiel blinked at him hesitantly as he leaned back on his pillows tiredly. He was an angel of the lord and thus could remember things exactly and he was pretty sure that each time he had become unwell, he had something unpleasant on his mind, although not always something that was making him feel guilty. Sometimes the disagreeable feeling related to Dean, or more so, some real or possible wall or obstacle that stood between them. But how was he going to tell all that to Dean?

Tbc


	6. Mime

Chapter 6: Mime

Sam was just finishing his fruit salad for breakfast when Dean came down into the main gallery in the exact same clothes he had on the day before, rubbing his face tiredly. "If you want, I could make you some eggs and bacon," Sam offered sympathetically.

"No!" Dean shook his head determinedly. "I'm not in the mood for food. I just watched Cas being sick every hour or so for the last six. I'll just take coffee," he reached for the pot. "Good news is, there cannot be no mistake as to why he's throwing up. He hates himself Sammy, he hates himself so much for what he had done under the Leviathans' control or under orders from above during the whole evolution of mankind!" Dean sat down opposite Sam at the table, "I have no idea how to stop him! I have no idea what to do with him!" The older hunter frowned exasperated, "I keep telling him it's not his fault, that all is forgotten, that I have forgiven him, but it doesn't seem to be enough! He keeps going on about how he killed this or wronged that. As if I wanted to know! Felt like I was a priest, god or something! He even apologised for his arrogance! Then all over again. Then a load of crap about failing and he kept saying the Sinner's Prayer. I thought he really lost it. Then it was hell he needed to talk to me about. Hell, I mean, hell Sammy, don't we know about hell! He is less afraid of going back there, or purgatory, than heaven. Afterwards it was about the awful mistakes again and with remembering each one, he tried to puke them out of his system I think. Until his belly hurt that much from the effort that he couldn't talk. He still kept throwing up though. Amazing amount of acids angels can produce, I'll tell you that! It must be all those regenerative abilities," he rolled his eyes on a sarcastic note.

"He's never done that before though, open up like that," Sam intercepted, "maybe it's a good thing, getting everything off his chest."

Dean shook his head unconvinced, "he's so tired I'm not sure if he's actually fallen asleep. How can that be a good thing?"

"No offense, but you look just as tired. Why don't you go to bed, I'll keep an eye on him, all right?" Sam put a palm encouragingly on Dean's shoulder.

"Thank you Sammy," the older brother grabbed a bit of a day old French toast out the fridge on his way to his room.

Sam opened the guest room door carefully, but contrary to what Dean had been saying, Castiel was sitting up on his bed, making clean towels appear on the table one by one on top of each other. "Dean was cleaning up my mess," the angel explained, "I told him he didn't have to, I can do it."

"He was worried you'd exert yourself," Sam explained placatingly, but didn't make any attempt to tell the angel what to do. He sat down at the foot of the bed instead, "Dean can be impractical and stubborn and he shows he cares by re-enacting mother hen in a chicken coop."

"I don't mind," Castiel maintained.

"No." Sam smiled, thinking of the implications of that so called more profound bond. But he had his own connection with their angel and he was going to use it right now, "Castiel. Listen. It didn't help me when I dwelled on the past and I don't have to continually think about my mistakes to atone and hopefully make a better choice next time. Also, it helps to keep busy, do research, study, even if there isn't anything in particular we need to find out at the time being. And I doubt Dean could be very good at helping you with relaxation techniques, but I've learned some at Stanford I still utilise."

"I appreciate your concern Sam," Castiel looked him in the eyes warmly, "however, I think my problem is more complex. I have my own coping methods with varying degrees of efficacy in temporarily placating my conscience, but I've noticed that fascinatingly, I only get sick in Dean's company and I have to ask you please don't tell him that."

"Are you sure?" Bewilderment passed on Sam's face, "I'd grant that little titbit fascinating status indeed. Why do you think that is?"

"Dean has always acted as some kind of amplifier of the human essence to me. He is the converter that made me receptive and understand the mortal's existence and experience, emotions to some extent. When I am with Dean, I feel everything intensified," Castiel's eyes narrowed in wonder and confusion, "duty, need, decency, love, vengeance, embarrassment, curiosity, jealousy, pride.."

"Wait, jealousy?" Sam picked out the word that made less sense than the others.

Castiel lowered his eyes, "I don't know how to handle certain emotions that cause reactions in my body. What to do with them when they're taking over my senses. Emotions aren't an angel's forte and feelings can be so powerful. I have come to the certain realisation the doctor you took me to was right. I suffer from a psychosomatic illness that could have two resolutions. I separate myself from the bodily experience on earth or keep away from Dean. I just don't know how to tell him I need to leave to get better."

Sam waved his arm before he could even speak, "I doubt any of us would like those options on the long term. Hold it for a minute Cas. You're saying your feelings get so out of control around Dean you get physically sick?"

"Essentially, yes. What does that mean in human terms?"

Although the younger Winchester had a fair idea what it was, he had to compulsively swallow for the importance of the possible upcoming revelation before asking, "what is it you're feeling towards Dean? Without all the other confusing emotions that also raise their heads whenever anything happens that might have an accumulative effect?"

Castiel studied his own hands when he answered slowly, "I don't know what to call it, but t's intense and it resonates my whole vessel and it weighs down my chest and my stomach like some kind of force field that originates in the space that Dean's soul resides, wherever he is. It is there pretty much all the time, but when he's near I'm weak, my knees shake, my heart's pounding and I feel like I need to swallow all the time. It doesn't just drain my vessel though, it's taxing on my grace too till there's nothing left that I could give over to the feeling. But it's not a linear loss, it resembles a roller coaster with many loops. If I reflect on it, it's worse, it is when I get physically ill from thoughts like his disapproval, guilt and the possibility of losing him in whatever form that may come. And when the roller coaster is at the top, it just feels like sweet warm melted creamy chocolate spread all over my body that somehow is also coming from the stomach area," he hovered his hand under his bellybutton hesitantly, shaking his head, "this is why I need to leave even if it kills me. I am making myself ill indeed by being so inexperienced with bodily feelings."

Sam stared at him for a moment with raised eyebrows, then burst out laughing, setting a large palm on one of Castiel's shoulders as encouragement, "that was the most convoluted way of me ever hearing someone admitting they are in love," he spluttered.

The angel drew back somewhat miffed and bewildered, "what am I doing wrong? Please instruct me if you know of any possible solutions."

The younger Winchester didn't let go of Castiel till he stopped chuckling, half using their friend as support so he didn't fall over, half wanting to make sure he didn't alienate the angel. "Cas." He took big breaths to calm himself, "Cas. Don't do anything, leave it to me. Once he wakes up, I'll talk to Dean. I have a feeling he might just have the exact solution you need." Sam still kept a hand on Castiel's shoulder, "trust me Cas, I know my brother. Do not leave under any circumstances."

Tbc


	7. Rapture

Chapter 7: Rapture

"Lovesick." Dean repeated the word as if it would've been an alien to be catapulted back next to its planet, "but that's ridiculous Sam. Even if it was true, how could that make him throw up? He loves me so much he feels sick of me? Explain to me how that makes any sense."

"Not many angels do this, in fact there's probably no precedence. Not so long ago it wasn't typical of angels to take a vessel. Gabriel likes to spend a lot of time on earth, but he plays around more than relates to humans and his powers are greater. Other angels visit randomly and don't take vessels on a permanent basis. Cas is the only one who got these strong attachments at the same time as undergoing a lengthy bodily experience. When they direct their powers towards a human, even their voice, they have to tone it down, harness it or otherwise it would harm us. Emotions of that strength, they could harm a vessel."

His borther was still shaking his head, "it's possible he could damage his own vessel, but it should heal up at the same time anyway from the very same powers."

"Dean, I'm not saying I'm a hundred percent sure about this. What matters is that Cas seems to think so and he's planning to solve the problem by leaving his vessel behind. We don't want that, do we?"

"I can't believe he wants to make a decision like that without at least as much as telling me first!" The older hunter fumed, something cold and heavy gripping at his heart. He wasn't certain about much else, but he did want to know with utter certainty that he will still be able to see and be with his angel in the future.

"Dean! Dean!" Sam took a few fast, long steps to catch up with his brother on his way to storm towards the room Castiel was resting in. "The last thing you want to do is scaring him off hurting his feelings. And possibly make him sick, both at the same time. When you go in there, I want you to be sure you came to terms with his side of the story."

The shorter man looked at his brother pointedly, his grim expression fading slowly as he grasped the importance of his behaviour, "I know what to do Sam," he said more calmly, "and it's none of your business," he added to retain the appearance that he still possessed most of his agency. He only had time to freak out about the certain awkwardness of the situation once at the other side of the door.

"I have promised Sam I won't leave until I hear out your solutions," Castiel said quietly staring at his quilt with his head bowed as if he would've been listening to the conversation, which probably was the precise truth of the matter.

Dean nodded, that was the easier part of the conversation. "Looks like some people handle emotions worse than I do."

"I'm sorry for the confusion, it was a very confounding situation to figure out. I apologize for my inexperience in the matter and the trouble I've caused."

"Cas. Are you even sure you're sick because the magnitude of an angel's emotions could be too overwhelming for your vessel?"

"I know I have lost control over my body and I know that I would do anything and did everything in the past for your approval and affection. Whether the connection is perfectly linear I'm not sure."

"Nobody wants you to leave," Dean stated, again dealing with the part of the conversation he could, "we need to find a way you can, without making you ill. If you think how you feel physically somehow depends on me in any way, you need to tell me what I can do to change your situation."

Castiel gave a weak shake of the head, uncharacteristically avoiding looking anywhere near Dean's face. "What I would need..you can't give me that."

"Give me something to work with here Cas!" The hunter growled, "you can't just give up and leave without explanations for the next thousand years! I might not be here when you come back you know!"

Castiel sighed, "we're more than friends you always say. That we're family. In what way are we family Dean? Clearly, you don't think of me as your elder. Are we brothers, distant cousins or related through spousal relatives?"

"No, not like that. I'm not sure what would be the exact term that'd fit, but you're very important to me Cas." It was the most Dean was ready to admit to. He sat down on the bed, "that is why I want to do everything I can to make you comfortable and be able to stay," he assured.

"I'm not sure if you've forgiven me Dean.."

"Well, I'm pretty sure I've forgiven you more than you've forgiven yourself," the human promised. He raised his arms in an open gesture, "what else is there clogging the works Cas?"

"My usual form of travel doesn't cause me constipation Dean."

The hunter waved him off and filed that comment away for another time. Perhaps he would've usually been amused if Castiel had said that, the nature of their conversation didn't allow for him laughing at his friend. "I'm not very good at chick flick stuff Cas, but I would regret it for the rest of my life if some stupid misunderstanding or misinterpretation of feelings stood in the way between us, you hear? Talk to me Cas." He waited resolutely.

Castiel nodded, anxiety making his stomach clench in anticipation already of what he was about to do. "Since this is one of those now or never situations.." He trailed off, placing an arm around his throbbing guts, "the state of my vessel and my future whereabouts depend on this.." He leaned forward, startling the other by uncharacteristically initiating physical contact with an even more uncharacteristical hug he pulled the hunter close enough with to place his angel cold lips over Dean's warm ones. Heart pounding in his chest painfully, Castiel kissed him softly, but desperately, swallowing every startled sound that was escaping the human's mouth.

Then just as quickly as he had started, Castiel pulled back, the importance of the following moments making him lightheaded. His eyes were searching the nightstand for an essential item even as he said, "I apologise for that, it felt like I needed that. I have needed you for so long. But tell me to go Dean and I will never bother you again."

Eyes finding it hard to decide whether to widen in shock or blink in embarrassment, but even in his daze Dean realised the first thing he had to do was hand Castiel the bowl over.

Tbc


	8. Anyhow

Chapter 8: Anyhow

"Do you still feel sick?" Dean hovered with the newly washed sickbowl by Castiel's bedside, deciding to place it back on the nightstand at the angel's feeble and embarrassed shake of the head. "Woozy?"

"No Dean," Castiel answered obediently, pretend calm.

"Cramps?"

"Not that much," the angel admitted.

"Right. Then why are you holding your stomach?"

"You don't need to concern yourself over that one Dean. It's like a dull discomfort, like what I assume is customary to feel as an after effect of vomiting."

"You shouldn't know what is customary after vomiting for humans!" The man grumbled.

"Dean. You're avoiding the subject."

"Well, yes," the hunter acknowledged, but settled back down to sit on the bed slowly, as if biding for time. He placed a palm awkwardly on the angel's shoulder in what meant to be a placating gesture that would show he cared, but was too bold and didn't propel him into noman's land where he had never been before. Then he felt Castiel's whole body clench under his touch, fingers curling in a tight ball, pressing at his stomach in what he could only guess was the angel's way of steeling himself for rejection and the vessel's response in return. And then Dean knew he couldn't do that to Cas. He leaned towards him and pressed an awkward little kiss to the side of Castiel's mouth, much more practical in placating the celestial's nerves, aided by no more than a teasing tongue having a small taste of the angel's bottom lip that left Castiel wide eyed. Actions after all had always been easier than words for the hunter.

"Dean.." The trenchcoatless started in incredulity.

"Hush Cas, don't waste it. Now what should we do about that stomach of yours?"

Castiel's sparkling blue eyes met his, "nothing needs to be done. I feel really well all of sudden."

"Is that so?" Dean frowned at him, not sure whether to laugh or cry, hug his angel relieved or make an attempt at strangling him. So Sam was actually right! "In that case I'm just gonna make sure," he ultimately decided on climbing onto the bed close to the headboard so he could spoon the other man from behind, wrapping his arms around the angel's abdomen soothingly and buried his head into Castiel's shoulder. "I'm guessing you don't think you're going to get ill if I hold you like this."

"I somehow think that assumption is correct as well," Castiel sighed, relaxing into the touch, pliant and soft as if he would've merely been an instrument in Dean's hands.

"You're a sneaky little bastard you know that?" Dean whispered into the angel's ears with warm puff against his lobes. There was part of him that screamed in terror and wanted to put as much distance between them as it was when he never even believed angels existed and then there was a part of him that won out, the one that wanted to help Castiel by giving over and surrendering everything he had.

"Dean, I assure you, I didn't plan any of this and again I have to apologise for putting you in a position you're not comfortable with." Tingles and pleasurable shivers going through his back and shoulders where they touched, creating warmth and relaxation Castiel haven't felt in a long time, not since their father left them, the angel wondered how far the human would be prepared to go.

"I know you haven't planned it Cas. I know from the surprise on your face when you realised you felt better. And then there's all that holy and true aspect of your personality as well."

"I have to thank you for your attentions, they are most… agreeable.

"I want you to be happy, Cas. And if that somehow involves me, well, I'm here."

"Yes," Castiel said keenly "I need you."

It wasn't in what he said, but how he'd said it, his need reflected in his voice and his expression, even in the way his form was stuck in between melting to Dean and pulling away in doubt. Governed by his now completely ingrained instincts working almost like a compulsion Castiel has glamoured him with, he gave himself over to his own need, deeper than sexual desire could ever be, something primal, something eternal. "I need you too Cas."

The End.


End file.
